Officer Factory. Hans Hellmut Kirst

as eyewitnesses.”

      “I’m familiar with the documents in the case,” said the General. “What interests me is the result of your investigations, Judge-Advocate.”

      Wirrmann nodded. It was plain from his expression that he felt offended. Once again the General had obviously intended to humiliate him.

      “Well, General,” he said, “ after an exhaustive study of all the available documents, and after a thorough examination of all doubtful and -debatable points, or points that were from my own point of view obscure, I have come to the following conclusions. Lieutenant Barkow died a violent death. It was caused by the selection of a fuse for the charge which was not only a fast-burning one but of insufficient length. The only real point to be decided was how this fast-burning fuse, of insufficient length, in fact came to be employed. Now here a number of alternatives present themselves. First: a fuse of insufficient length was selected through inadequate expert knowledge. This alternative is excluded because Lieutenant Barkow was an officer of considerable experience in this field. Secondly: the correct and properly selected length of fuse was replaced by another which detonated the charge prematurely. In this case the only possibility is that one of the cadets was responsible. By the very nature of things, however, this too, it seems, can be excluded or at least regarded as extremely improbable. For the cadets' statements all tally. Moreover there seems no indication of what must always be the decisive factors in such cases: motive and opportunity. From which, thirdly, the final and only logical conclusion that presents itself is that it was an error, a mistake, an accident, which caused Lieutenant Barkow's death. Ergo: his death was accidental.”

      “If you really believe that,” said the General sharply, “you’re incompetent. But if you only pretend to believe that, then I must regard you as a liar.”

      Sybille Bachner looked up from her note-taking in amazement. Never before had she heard Major-General Modersohn use such strong words, so deliberately designed to cause pain. Even his most extreme and devastating disapproval had always been expressed with relative restraint. Sybille Bachner took a deep breath. Her hand trembled slightly—but she went on writing, as she had been told to.

      Lieutenant Krafft, however, sat up with a start, and began to listen intently. He looked from Modersohn to Wirrmann with secret delight. And gradually it began to dawn on him that what he was watching was an extraordinarily thrilling and potentially dangerous drama. It was as if he were honored with a special seat in a box.

      The Judge-Advocate blushed as red as a beetroot. His composure was astonishing. An expression of deep distress appeared on his face, to be replaced by one of bitter reproach. What he seemed to want to convey was that he had been lamentably misunderstood. More than that: he felt as if he had been treated as a mere insignificant subordinate.

      “General,” said Wirrmann in a choked voice, “may I be allowed once again to draw your attention to the fact that I consider it hazardous to make this report in the presence of a third party. Particularly with respect to the points which it now seems cannot avoid being discussed.”

      “I repeat: I take note of your suggestion, but I do not accept it. Kindly come to the point.”

      “The General really doesn't wish to rest satisfied with my conclusion? Even when I assure him that it represents the best and indeed the only acceptable solution in the circumstances?”

      “Even then not.”

      The Judge-Advocate mopped his brow with a large red-and-white-striped handkerchief. The General stood there immobile as ever. Krafft now leant forward slightly, and Sybille Bachner hastily grabbed another pencil—her first one had broken.

      “Naturally,” said Wirrmann ponderously, “it is possible to draw other conclusions from the documents before us than those which have led me to the final assessment of my investigation. In fact, as the General may have presumed or indeed known, there is a motive of a sort, which could exclude the possibility of an accident or at least render it doubtful. Yet I dare not examine this motive, General—or rather it would involve more than mere daring to do so, it would be a fatal mistake!”

      “And why, Judge-Advocate?”

      “General, I'm not quite clear what was the exact nature of your relationship with the deceased Lieutenant Barkow ...' “I was his commanding officer—that suffices.”

      “Very good, General—whether that suffices or not is of course not for me to decide. But if the General should compel me to look for a possible motive, then this might be found in the abundant and indisputable proof that Lieutenant Barkow repeatedly made subversive remarks about the war effort, and that he used expressions hostile to the Führer and Supreme Commander of the Wehrmacht which could be categorized as high treason. These, General, are crimes which inevitably incur the death penalty. It could be said that this violent death of his saved him from one more shameful.”

      “So that's it,” said the General almost inaudibly.

      Then Major-General Modersohn slowly turned round, went over to the window, parted the blackout curtains, and flung the windows wide. It was a clear blue ice-cold night outside —moonless and starless. The darkness glowed strangely. It was almost as if this little square of artificial light were the only window viewing the whole world—a world which froze in icy rejection of all things human. The people in the room shuddered at the cold draught of air.

      After a while the General swung round and faced his visitors. His complexion seemed to have turned a shade paler. But this could have been explained by the eerie light reflected from the snow which poured in _through the wide-open windows.

      “Thank you for your remarks, Judge-Advocate,” said the General. “I note the fact that you regard your investigations as closed. Your duty in my command is thereby concluded. You will report back to the headquarters of the Inspector of Training first thing to-morrow morning. I hope you have a pleasant journey, Judge-Advocate.”

      Wirrmann stood up. He saluted and left the room. Both pride and satisfaction were evident in his gait. He felt confident now that victory was his. Casualties had been heavy, but victory was his! And he felt sure that next time he would not only beat this dangerous opponent but destroy him altogether.

      “Fräulein Bachner,” said the General after Wirrmann had gone, “please hand me your shorthand note.”